


Why we fight

by AnneValkyria



Category: Sons of Anarchy, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Cheating, F/M, Revenge, Some Romance too, domestic abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-25 17:47:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6204835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnneValkyria/pseuds/AnneValkyria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is always more than one side to every story. This is theirs. AH/AU</p><p> </p><p>Winner of "Bloody Valentine" and "They Done Me Wrong" in BetterInTexas Fiction 29 Days of Love Contest</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why we fight

 

 **Beta:** Hannah_Perry85

 **Disclaimer:** (for fanfiction) All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

 

Trigger warning: This story contains domestic abuse, as well as violence and character deaths. It is possible I missed something. Proceed with caution

 

 

Jacob

 

The bruised and swollen knuckles on his left hand throbbed warningly when he clenched and unclenched his fist, and his split lip burned under the sweep of his tongue. The crowd called his name but he barely heard it over the sound of his own rage. He almost lost. The most important fight of his life and he almost lost, and it was all because of his bitch of a wife.

The door to the locker room slammed shut behind him and he reached behind his back and pulled the wife-beater over his head and threw it on the bench, next to a case of empty water bottles.

Jake grabbed a threadbare towel and stepped up to the mirror to check the damages, and grunted with satisfaction when it seemed like his knuckles had taken the brunt of it. The blood seeping the cut above his eyebrow had already begun to dry, and that was the only visible injury besides the cut on his lip. His mouth twisted into a sinister grin; they’d had to carry out his opponent on a stretcher.

Jake’s smile fell when he spotted the fading bruise on his jaw.

Fucking _bitch_.

He had met Leah around the time he started making a name for himself amongst the underground fighters. She had been somewhat plain and mousy, but what she lacked in looks and body she had more than made up for in other ways. She had been eager to please and willing to satisfy his every whim both in and out of the bedroom. She seemed to know what he wanted even before he did, as if her whole goal in life was to make him happy, and happy he had been.

Their wedding had been small; just his family and hers, they had gone down to the courthouse and been wed by the justice of the peace. It hadn’t been anything fancy, but they weren’t really fancy people to begin with.

The first time it happened had truly been an accident.

Jake had been stressed over an important fight, one that if he won could get him bumped up a class. He had been at the gym from the crack of dawn, and when he finally stumbled home around midnight with every muscle aching and sore, and all he wanted was to eat, fuck and sleep, and not necessarily in that order.

 _The house was dark and quiet, the kitchen was empty, and Leah was in their bedroom, fast asleep. Furious, Jake shook her roughly, “Get up!” he demanded with a voice slurred from exhaustion. “I’m hungry. Make me something to eat.” She didn’t react fast enough so he shook her until her head banged against the headboard. “_ Get up _!”_

 _It was her own fault. If she had only done what he asked, everything would have been fine, but instead she gave him attitude, in his own house. He didn’t even think, just let his hand fly. It was only an open handed slap, but the sound of it echoed between them_.

He had been appropriately apologetic the next day, and vowed to never do it again. The promise had lasted almost six months. He had grabbed her too hard that time, leaving imprints of his fingers on her tanned arms, but it never would have happened if she hadn’t suggested that he wasn’t man enough to support his family.

Coming home to Sunday Steak on a Wednesday was out of the ordinary, but Jake had been too hungry to question it. When she told him it was to _celebrate_ he thought he had knocked her up. Not in his wildest fantasies did he think she had gotten herself a _job_.

Even thinking about it two years later turned his stomach.

He had continued eating in silence as he watched the bruises bloom on her bare arms. After he swallowed down the last bite with a bottle of beer he turned to his wife and demanded to know why she thought she should work outside of their home.

Whispering, because she knew that she had done something wrong, she talked about living expenses and grocery costs, and the fact that his temper prevented him from keeping a regular day job. Jake remained calm on the outside through her stammered explanation while his anger simmered deep in his gut.

He could have let it go if she hadn’t insulted him. But when she brought up his fighting, and said that income wasn’t a regular occurrence and relied on him winning, he lost it and backhanded her across the face.

That time Jake hadn’t bothered apologizing, and Leah hadn’t asked him for one. She knew she deserved it, just as she deserved it every other time he’d had to show her who made the rules, who called the shots.

She punished him with cold food when he was too late for dinner, so he punished her by shoving her hand into a pot of boiling water. After that Leah always had a hot meal waiting for him when he came through the door.

One evening when he came home reeking of cheap whiskey and even cheaper perfume, she accused him of cheating, and tried to force him to sleep on the couch. Jake took a baseball bat to both the couch and the bed. Neither of them got any sleep that night.

It continued in the same pattern for a couple of years; Leah would try to mouth off and he would shut her up.

He noticed a change in her the last couple of months and suddenly, a few days ago, she hit him back. She only landed a couple of punches, Jake still exceeded her strength and size, and more importantly, skill and experience. The fact that she dared take him on drove him mad. He stared at his reflection, and the bruise that shouldn’t be there. Fury burnt its way through his chest. _She_ had landed a hit on _him_.  Almost a week later, he still couldn’t get the affront out of his head. It had made him dangerously distracted, and caused a near loss.

The bitch had to pay.

Jake traced a pattern between the spatters of blood from his opponent’s nose that covered his collarbones and most of his face like war paint. The shower would have to wait. He was going home to his wife and beat the attitude out of her once and for all, and add her blood to the losers he was already wearing. 

Getting dressed, he pulled the hood on his sweater up around his head. He didn’t want to get stopped by the cops on the way as he walked as fast as he dared, too juiced to be stuck inside of a cab. The extra thirty minutes it took for him to get home did nothing to calm him down, and he was literally out for blood as he pushed down the handle and opened the door.

Jake heard voices coming from the bedroom, but chalked that up to Leah watching one of her crime shows in bed. What he didn’t expect was to see another man standing in the middle of the room, “What the _hell_ is going on here?”

“Watch out, he’s got a gun!” Leah cried.

His head snapped in her direction. A shot rang out, and he felt a sharp burning in his chest, then…nothing.

 

Sam

 

 

 _“You’re the last person I should be calling,”_ Leah’s voice broke. _“But I don’t know who else to turn to.”_

It had been four years since Sam had last seen his ex-fiancé, and even longer since he had heard her voice, but it was as familiar to him as the shame, guilt and longing that came with it. They were highschool sweethearts and had been engaged to be married. They had been happy and so in love that their friends and family jokingly said they couldn’t be around them. The date had been set, the invitations sent; the flowers had been ordered, Leah had found a dress she loved **,** Sam had asked Leah’s younger brother Seth to be his best man, and Leah wanted her cousin Emily Young as her maid-of-honor. The only thing left had been the ceremony. He could still remember how eager he had been to get it over with so they could start their life together.

Emily had grown up on the Makah reservation, and although it was only sixty miles away, she decided to come a whole month early to help Leah with the last minute preparations. Sam had asked himself countless times if it would have been different if she hadn’t. All it took was one touch and he knew that no matter how much he loved Leah, Emily was the one he was supposed to spend the rest of his life with. It had broken his heart to betray his fiancé, but it had been out of his control.

Shortly thereafter Leah left La Push without so much as a word to anyone, not even her family, and Sam hadn’t seen or heard from her since.

“Leah,” he breathed out her name, forgetting just for a moment about the pregnant wife waiting for him in the bedroom, or the twin daughters who slept peacefully in their bunk bed. His thoughts went back to the time all those years ago, and the months before the wedding when his largest concern had been whether or not the flowers would match the china or not.

“Hello Leah,” he had a lump stuck in his throat the size of a baseball and his voice came out rougher than usual. Her sob broke the spell and worry took place over the guilt. Sam wanted to comfort her, but he didn’t know how to do that anymore. “You know you can always come to me, Lee-Lee,” the old nickname slid easily off his tongue.

“ _Sam,”_ Leah cried so hard she could barely get the words out. _“I need your help_.”

After hurriedly jotting down her address Sam was out the door, not even taking the time to kiss his wife and daughters goodbye.

He had been surprised to find out she lived as close as she did, and fifteen short minutes later he parked outside of her house. He didn’t know what to expect so he grabbed the gun he kept locked inside the glove compartment and shoved it in the back of his pants.

The Leah who opened the door was far from the girl he used to know. Her posture was hunched with her shoulders pulled up to her ears, there was a cut on the side of her lip, and her right eye was swollen shut. She kept her gaze downcast, refusing to look at him.

“Who did this to you?” he prodded the discolored skin along her jaw and cheekbones with gentle fingers.

Leah struggled to get out the words. “My husband…” jealousy that she married someone else warred with anger that anyone dared to lay a hand on her. “I thought he loved me and hoped he would change,” tears fell in a steady stream down her bruised and swollen face. “I can’t take it anymore. I need to get out of here but I don’t know where to go.” Her voice caught on the last word and she couldn’t continue for several minutes. “Please, Sammy, help me.”

There was no way Sam could deny her plea even if he wanted. His once strong Lee-Lee looked broken and battered, he couldn’t just leave her, not like this. “You’re coming home with me,” Emily would understand. He would make sure she did.

He held Leah close while she cried, and his body reacted to how her smaller frame still fit perfectly underneath his chin as he rested it on top of her head. They had both changed over the years, but his body would never forget the feeling of her body pressed close to his. She pulled away embarrassed, and wiped away the tears with a steady hand. “We need to leave before Jake gets home.”

Quickly they packed her bags in silence, only broken by occasional sobs and whimpers. Having to pretend he couldn’t hear her continued cries tore at his heart, but couldn’t spare the time to comfort her as long as they were still in the house she shared with her abusive husband. He had all but forgotten about Emily and his daughters, all he wanted to do was get Leah as far away from there as possible so he could take care of her.

She glanced at the cheap watch around her wrist, “I just have to get a few things in the bathroom and then I’m ready to go.”

The door to the master bedroom flew open and crashed against the wall and in walked a man almost as tall as Sam himself, but more muscular than anyone he had seen outside of wrestling on TV. Rusty flecks of dried blood covered his throat and the bottom part of his face. Sam didn’t need to be a genius to figure out that this was Leah’s husband.

“What the _hell_ is going on here?” the man roared.

“Watch out, he’s got a gun!” Leah called out from the bathroom.

Sam didn’t think twice before he fired off a shot straight into the other man’s heart. He fell to the floor with a loud thud.

He never stopped to think that he had taken someone's life, all that mattered was that Leah was safe. She ran into his arms and he wrapped them protectively around her, enjoying having her close. When Sam first felt the burning pain in his chest he took it as a sign that he had made a mistake all those years ago, and that he was meant to be with the woman in his arms. When he looked down and saw the handle sticking out of the right side of his soaked shirt he turned his confused gaze to Leah. “What…?” Dark spots appeared in front of his eyes and the blood loss was making him woozy, his knees weakened and he would have fallen to the floor if she hadn’t supported his weight. “How…?”

Leah’s lips brushed against the shell of his ear, “Now you know how I felt.”

Then everything went black.

 

 

Leah

 

Leah had met Jake just a few months after Sam left her for Emily. She was still picking up the pieces of her broken heart, but a desperate need to be loved turned what should have been a rebound into something more serious, and before long they were married. She was fine with him calling the shots in their marriage, it was her way of making up for not loving him the way he deserved, because her broken heart still belonged to her former fiancé. Whatever self-esteem she once had was long gone so the first time Jake hit her she convinced herself that she must have done something wrong. Jake was a good man and he would never hurt her without reason. But he had a horrible temper that seemed to worsen day by day, and Leah quickly learned to give him whatever he asked for to keep him from taking his anger out on her. By then their lovemaking was non-existent, and he came home smelling of other women more often than not. She blamed herself of course, for letting herself go since the wedding and not taken care of herself as she good wife should.

Money was always tight, Jake lost more than he won, so she began looking for job to help with the bills. She didn’t tell Jake until she was hired as a cashier at Chuck’s Pump ‘n Go, wanting it to be a surprise. Instead he had surprised _her_ , with a split lip and bruises on her arms. She called Chuck the next day and regretfully declined his kind offer. She never mentioned needing an extra income again.

Around that time a gym opened up across from the grocery store, and in a last effort to make her husband fall in love with her all over again she joined a spinning class, and yoga for beginners.

After a few weeks she started seeing results, in the way the clothes she usually wore hung loosely on her, and the day she could fit in her favorite jeans again she spoiled herself by going shopping, and bought a whole new wardrobe on sale. Slowly she began feeling better about herself.

Even Jake seemed to noticed the changes in his wife and spent more nights at home than with one of the “ring rats,” but instead of it being a wish come true Leah laid awake long after her husband fallen asleep, listening to his snores and feeling used and dirty. One night she had decided she’d had enough and told him she wasn’t in the mood, she ended up with three cracked ribs and a broken nose.

The morning she was released from the hospital she signed up for lessons in self-defense, she was sick and tired of being Jake’s punching bag, it was time she learned how to protect herself. She didn’t look at the man who taught the class in fear of seeing pity in his eyes, he introduced himself as Greg and suggested calmly that she audit the sessions for free while she healed.

As she turned to leave the gym she ran straight into a very firm, very muscular, very naked chest. “Oh, oh my. I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking.” She forced herself not to flinch away from the expected slap, having promised herself not to cower for any man ever again, and instead kept her gaze looked on the bare torso in front of her. The man was tall, almost as tall as Jake, but not as big as him, his muscles were leaner and looked more natural as if they came from doing physical labor than lifting weights. His arms were covered in tattoos from wrist to shoulder, demons, snakes and flowers, below his collarbones she read the words ‘I live. I die. I kill for my family’ on his chest was a huge rattle snake, the words ‘filthy few’ and a dozen or so smiley faces. Afraid of what she might see she steeled herself and looked met the bluest eyes she had ever seen. “Oh, my.” The man smiled and moved a toothpick from one side to the other of his plump bottom lip. Leah found herself being jealous of a toothpick.

“No harm,” he spoke with a quiet gruff. “I’m happy.”

Leah looked up at him with confusion. He was happy? Happy to what? Let her walk into him? “Um…?”

The man chuckled. “I’m happy,” he repeated slowly. “It’s my name.”

“Oh,” Leah cursed her stupidity and felt the telltale prickle of tears burn her eyes. “I’m just gonna,” she waved her hand in what she hoped was the direction of the exit. She just wanted to go home and pretend this day never happened.

Happy locked concerned and rubbed his palm over his shaved head, “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad,” he smiled sheepishly and moved that cursed toothpick back to where it started. “I know my name is weird, but I been told it suits me.”

“Um… Yes,” she agreed a little hesitantly, a tiny smile pulled at the cut on her lip. “You do seem to smile a lot.”

“Nah,” he grinned. “Never. You must be something special to bring that out in me.”

Her face fell. “No, I’m not. It was nice to meet you, but I have to go.” She didn’t stay to wait for an answer but hurried towards the double doors.

“Hey, Not Special!” Happy called after her. “If you want to keep that door from running into you again you need to learn more than just self-defense.”

She watched the class train every day and it didn’t take long until she figured out that Happy had been right. Self-defense wasn’t so much about learning to _defend_ yourself as it was learning to _get away_ from your attacker. It wasn’t what she was looking for _at all_. Gathering as much courage as she could muster she approached Happy and asked what she thought she needed to learn. He looked deep into her eye and brushed his knuckles over her swollen nose. “Come see me when you can touch your toes without pain.”

Two months later Leah was back in the gym, eager to get started, and is she was honest with herself, she was eager to see Happy as well.

The progress went slowly, and she was the one ending up on her ass, but the day she landed a direct hit to Happy’s jaw was the best day she’d had in a long time. She beamed with pride when he congratulated her, and riding high she used the opportunity to reached up and kiss his scratchy jaw. Her lips tingled at the contact and she bit back a moan when his eyes darkened. The had worked closely for months, but she hadn’t dared that he might feel the same electricity as she did, her heart beat erratically and she prayed that he would take the first step and give her a real kiss, and didn’t manage to hide her disappointment when he didn’t.

One Sunday when Leah made her weekly phone call to her mother she found out that Emily was pregnant again, this time they were expecting a boy. Sa was of course ecstatic. The betrayal that had been buried for so long flared up and she was once more filled with the same hatred as the day she walked in on the two of them together.

Happy noticed that something was wrong, but it wasn’t until she started taking out her anger on him that he confronted her and demanded to know what was wrong. She told him everything, “I want to cut his heart out,” she gritted. “That’s the only way he will feel what I felt.” It was all Sam’s fault. If he hadn’t cheated on her she would have never ended up with Jake. A couple of tears escaped her tightly screwed shut eyes, but before she could angrily wipe them away he cool tip of Happy’s tongue licked them away, one by one. “I just had to see how you tasted,” he murmured against her temple.

“And how did I taste?” she asked hoarsely.

“De-lic-ious.”

Tired of hurting, tired of being weak, tired of waiting for something that might never happened she turned her head and pressed her lips against his. She flinched when the toothpick poked the corner of her mouth and he pulled away from her, but before she even had the chance to feel the burn of rejection his lips was back on hers. Wet, open mouthed kisses ended with two quick ones. She wanted more, but first she needed to know, “Why didn’t you kiss me before today?” she whispered. “You must have known I wanted you, why didn’t you take the first step?”

“. You’ve had enough choices taken away from you,” he replied solemnly. “You didn’t need more.”

She frowned. “But I wanted you to.”

“Next time,” he promised, warmth spread through her chest from the intensity in his eyes.

 _Next time_. She liked the sound of that.

Leah smiled all the way home as her mind dreamed up different scenarios for _next time_ , her imagination ran wild and if she had been inclined to blush her face would have turned a lovely shade of crimson.

The house was lit up like a Christmas tree, a sign that Jake had come home when she was at the gym, but for the first time in years Leah wasn’t afraid when she walked through the door to meet him.

“Where the hell have you been?” he barked.

Her clenched fist and gritted teeth would have clued him in that something was wrong, but her husband didn’t bother looking past her bowed head and slumped shoulders.

She saw the slap coming a mile away, his palm barely grazed her cheek, but she whipped her head to the side for effect.

The look in his eyes when her fist connected with his jaw would stay with her forever. Leah had managed to land another two hits in the same spot by the time Jake had collected himself. She made the mistake of bracing for the impact, her head snapped back and she landed face first on the floor. Refusing to take the beating lying down she pushed herself up onto her knees and spat out a mouthful of blood. “Is that all you got?”

Fury made Jake sloppy but she could still feel the punch throughout her body. He was going to kill her, she couldn’t do much about that, but she wouldn’t go quietly into the cold night, she would rage alright. 

The third shot knocked her out, she didn’t wake up until much later, alone, and somehow still alive. Aware that she wouldn’t be as lucky a second time she made a decision. “I have to kill him,” she told Happy as he dressed her wounds. “There is no other way.”

“Yeah,” he agreed easily, “Need my help?”

Later Leah would look back to that conversation as the moment she fell in love with him.

Using Jake to take out her revenge on Sam had been Happy’s idea, killing two birds with one stone and a week later when she pulled the knife out of Sam’s heart she knew it had been a great one.

After washing the blood off her hands and wiping her prints off the knife she placed the bloodied clothes in a plastic bag and shoved it into one of the backpacks before pausing to survey the room. Haphazardly thrown clothes laid scattered all over the three suitcases bed and most of the floor, as if someone had been in a hurry to leave. It was exactly like she and Happy had planned it: Leah had called Sam begging for help, but when he arrived at her house she was nowhere to be found. Then Jake came home and they struggled, Sam fired off a shot and Jake, whose fingers were wrapped around the handle of the knife managed to stab Sam. Both were found dead on the scene.

There was enough evidence to support that theory, even if Sam hadn’t told his wife where he was going the phone records would show that he had gotten a call from his former fiancé before he left, not to mention the blood the technicians would find, as well as the medical records suggesting ongoing abuse. The plan wasn’t foolproof, but Leah wasn’t worried, they deal with it when that day came.

With only two bags, one with the blood covered clothes, and the other with everything she needed to get where they were going she left through the back door to were Happy waited on her a block away. The way he looked leaning against his Harley sent ripples of excitement down Leah’s spine.

“Did you cut out his heart?” he asked curiously.

“No,” she smiled and took the extra helmet he handed her. “I didn’t need it anymore.”

 

 

Happy

 

 

 

Leah was one crazy broad, and that was the way Happy liked his women. Add to her being one of the sexiest ones he had seen in a long time and you’d have permanently tight jeans.

Happy had just been in town for a pick up the day Leah ran into him, but curiosity made him stick around. There was just something about her that he couldn’t get enough of. He had seen the strength in her from the very beginning and he had loved to bring it out of her.

He swerved on the bike when Leah palmed his dick through his jeans and Happy groaned through a chuckle. “Are you trying to kill me, Sweetheart.”

She giggled, “Not today.”

He didn’t know what the future would held, just that he wanted her with him.

“How do you feel about an ice cream?” he asked, as he turned his bike in the direction of the small town in California.

“I love it.”

“Great, I know just the place.”

 

**Thank you for reading**

 

 

 

“but she wouldn’t go quietly into the cold night, she would rage alright.”

 

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

~Dylan Thomas


End file.
